


A Good Bedside Manner

by unquietspirit



Category: Pundit & Broadcast Journalist RPF (US), Real News RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Foot rubs, M/M, Star Trek: TOS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-24
Updated: 2011-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-17 05:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unquietspirit/pseuds/unquietspirit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And tomorrow will be another day full of talking to people who are risking their lives to tell him their stories, trusting him to get it right.</p><p>Takes place the night of February 20th.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Bedside Manner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knobblyfruit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knobblyfruit/gifts).



_Terror, utter hopelessness.... no help will arrive, there's nowhere to turn... the overwhelming urge to hide, but how? The door can't hold up for long...._

Anderson was pulled out of his half-formed nightmare by the taxi's sudden lack of movement. Foggy with sleep, his brain took a few seconds to shake off the fear and recognize the familiar sight of his and Keith's apartment building. His gaze automatically went to their living-room window. It was lit up with the flickering blue glow of a television set.

"Thanks," he said, digging some cash out of his wallet and handing it to the driver.

"Have a good night, sir."

He opened the door and stepped out into the frosty darkness, slinging his small duffel bag over his shoulder. Out of habit, he pulled his Blackberry from his pocket and checked his messages as he walked into the building. There was one from his mother, in response to the "Happy Birthday" he had sent her before boarding the plane in Richmond.

_Thank you, darling. I'm looking forward to our lunch on Friday. Love always._

Anderson felt a pang of guilt as he read it. They'd never been big on celebrating birthdays, but this time he'd nearly forgotten hers entirely. For days his mind has been filled with the struggles of people in lands he can't get to; it doesn't leave much room for anything else.

The handrail in the elevator took most of his weight during the ride up. What little sleep he'd gotten on the plane and in the taxi was shallow and fitful. He was still exhausted. He unlocked the apartment door, dropped his bag, kicked off his shoes, and then followed the sound of the TV into the living room. As he got closer, he was able to make out the words.

"Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise...."

"Star Trek?" he asked.

Keith, who was sitting on the couch, glanced over his shoulder. "Hey," he said in greeting. "It's an all-night marathon. How was Richmond?"

"Fine." Anderson walked around the couch and dropped down on the cushion next to him. "I think that's the last one I'll do for awhile. I've conquered my fear of public speaking."

"You look drained," Keith said, his frankness tempered by a touch of concern.

"I am. I dozed off in the cab, but..." he trailed off and shrugged with one shoulder. "I don't think I'll be able to fall back asleep now."

"Still with the nightmares?"

Anderson didn't answer, knowing that Keith would interpret his silence correctly. After a moment, Keith said, "Give me your feet." Anderson blinked at him. "I want to give you a foot rub. Give me your feet and lie back on the couch."

"A foot rub?" Anderson repeated. It seemed like such an un-Keith thing to do.

"Yes, a foot rub" Keith said, sounding slightly impatient. "They're relaxing."

"Okaaay..." Doubtfully, Anderson shifted until he was laying with his head supported by the arm of the couch and his feet in his boyfriend's lap.

"I love this episode," Keith said, nodding toward the television. Anderson turned his head to watch Kirk, Spock, and Bones discover a mute woman in the underground chamber they'd been teleported into. Then Keith pressed on the arch of his foot, and he had to bite his lip to keep from making an embarrassing whimper of pleasure.

" _Where_ did you learn to do that so well?" he asked, his voice coming out as more of a moan than anything.

Keith's grin was smug. "You know that I have magic hands;" -- Anderson snorted -- "now relax and watch Star Trek."

He let himself be drawn into the episode as Keith continued to work over his foot, producing truly amazing sensations. On the screen, Spock stepped up behind one of the Vian captors and used the Vulcan nerve pinch on him.

Keith said, "Did you know that Leonard Nimoy invented-"

"The Vulcan nerve pinch?" Anderson interrupted. "Of course! I used to watch this show all the time when I was a kid. There's a -- _ohhhh_ , do that again -- there's a scene later where they have Kirk chained up, shirtless and sweaty. I loved that scene. It should've been a clue."

"Are you trying to tell me you're into bondage, Andy?" Keith asked, smirking and arching an eyebrow as his thumbs did sinful things to Anderson's toes.

He giggled and kicked his free foot at the other man's thigh. "You know that isn't what I meant!"

"Shame," Keith sighed.

Anderson wasn't entirely sure how much he was joking, but decided to let it go for the moment and focus on relaxing. Since going to Egypt, he'd felt like he was operating in high speed with too little fuel. The nightmares, the resulting lack of sleep, the criticism for doing his job well, the inspiring bravery and unspeakable suffering he witnessed each day before they blurred the most graphic parts of the video clips -- all of it was wearing on him. And tomorrow will be another day full of talking to people who are risking their lives to tell him their stories, trusting him to get it right. Yes, he still felt the shark-like need to keep moving in order to stay alive, but it was nice to slow down every once in a while for a foot rub and an episode of Star Trek.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the episode of Star Trek the boys watch, "The Empath".


End file.
